Intricacies
by Kijarat
Summary: Michael and Selene find a way to escape Death Dealer attention, while the surviving Vampires and Lycans are left stunned and leaderless. Chapter 4 is up!
1. Confusion

Well, ok, this is it, the first chapter of my first fic..

It hasn't been beta read, just read over a few thousand times during my de-bugging process.

Oh, and if you really think this is just a pile of donkey-crap, feel free to flame all your little heart desires! I enjoy reading flames; they just make me laugh, though constructive criticism is appreciated when received.

If you spot any grammatical/plot errors anywhere throughout the fic, don't hesitate to notify me, I don't mind corrections at all.

And, of course, the mandatory disclaimers: I do not own any part of Underworld (Though that would be one of the coolest things on this dear earth!). Len Wiseman and the rest of the dudes in its production do.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Confusion**

_Winter. The world was drenched in the dull droplets falling from an overcast sky, enveloping the world in a grim layer of darkness, shielding humanity from the delightful bliss that was the sun. Fields flooding, roads slick, and a pair of watchful brown eyes hidden behind loose strands of disgruntled black hair, watching it all.  
  
A stray gust of wind blew those rather tangled locks away, revealing the pale face of a young woman in her late-twenties, her sharp gaze seemingly piercing cloud, rain, sleet and ice. Her meandering dark eyes narrowed as they found their prey; a tall man, cloaked in a heavy leather jacket, suspicion dominating his features, his hands fumbling feverishly in his coat pockets. His stained, tattered, and for the most part soaking clothing gave onlookers a glimpse of what his life might be, but Selene wasn't fooled the slightest by the pitying glances this scraggly young man seemed to attract. _

_She knew very well who and what this stranger truly was, her mind at ease with the thought that her vengeance would be once more reeked upon yet another lycan, another of the filthy species who slaughtered all whom she had ever loved. She was ready.  
  
Placing a deceptively delicate-looking hand on her holster, she firmly gripped one of her Berettas, its cold metallic surface soothing to her fingers, sending an instinctive feeling of security to her much-tortured mind. Her only friends in a sea of enemies, the only comfort in a world of pain. Her eye-lids fluttered shut for a brief moment, as she inhaled a deep breath, then without hesitation, she drew her weapons, gliding from behind the pillar she stood, fully-automatic pistols at the ready.  
_

_This was the first – and hopefully last – occasion she'd have to face a lycan in an open, public street. _

_Immediately noticing the leather-clad assassin brandishing a pair of pistols, the few occupants of the relatively empty street fled, some screaming, some crying, and others simply sprinting for their lives.  
_

_She had no time to react to the panic-ridden Hungarian citizens about her, for her steely gaze was locked on her now terrified enemy, who fled with speeds only a lycan could obtain.  
  
Instinct took over as rigid training needed not remind her of her duty, her passion. Cursing under her breath at the hastened departure of her target, she fired a few rounds after him, starting at a run.  
  
He didn't get far before one of the silver-plated bullets met its target, causing the fleeing youth to crumple on the spot, his spine fractured neatly in two.  
_

_The faintest of smiles crossed Selenes face as she stepped over to the terminally injured lycan, her fingers itching to send more of the same Godsend ammunition into his twitching corpse. Triumph and silent satisfaction graced her delicate features briefly as the lethal bullets penetrated his skin, before returning to her well-known look of uncaring disdain, her momentarily electric blue eyes fading back to their usual hazel. _

_She kicked the lifeless corps of a lycan she had relished killing, before reaching down reluctantly to grab a handful of his jacket, effectively dragging him to a less public grave. A near-by, yet secluded ditch was good enough for this piece of filth, she thought while grimacing as the scent of his burnt flesh wafted silently up to her, the silver ammunition causing an allergic reaction in his body even after death.  
  
Her scowl faded back into dark satisfaction, as she hastily wiped her contaminated hand on a tuft of rain-soaked grass, effectively cleansing it of the irritating black grime that contrasted against her pale skin. _

It'll take more than just a little grass to remove that filths stench though.._ She thought with a smirk, holstering her Berettas, and heading back for home._

* * *

Home. For well over a century she had believed this word to be the vampire infested mansion Ordoghaz, until the earth-shattering moment she discovered the Elder she had put all her trust in, the one being she could rely on, had been just a sick lie. The lie she believed in for the majority of her life, the lie that had fueled the un-hesitant slaughter of what must have been thousands of predominantly innocent lycans, all for revenge.  
  
A sudden movement from the sleeping occupant of a near-by bed roused Selene from her dark thoughts, bringing her back to the cold, hardened reality her life had now become. -

* * *

Immediately after the incident in the lycan sewers, the confusion, and overwhelming thoughts that came along with the events of that night, she quickly stopped by Ordoghaz, a stunned and confused Michael following her footsteps much like a lost puppy.

She assembled a backpacks worth of 'essentials', consisting of ammunition, bags of various weapons, ammunition, some cash, and a pair of what must have been credit cards, Michael thought, as they drove silently through the night in the silver Mercedes Selene had come to own after the rather unfortunate drowning of her old black Jag.

None dared to speak as they both ran through a series of progressively darker thoughts in their minds.

Michael stared aimlessly out his window, watching Budapest flash by quickly, until the blur of city lights came to a stop. He turned to Selene, as if gazing at her for a moment would extract a clarification.

"Stay here, I'll only be a minute," She instructed, taking no time to explain as she snatched the credit cards from the dashboard, leaving Michael to ponder what she was up to.  
  
To Selene, the obvious had no business being elaborated, and to Michael, this was no less than frustrating at the best of times.

She only stayed briefly, true to her word, returning with a handful of cash, and a large cooler of what Michael suspected to be blood.

Without a word she placed the cooler in the backseat and the cash in a small black bag in the glove compartment.

Resuming their nocturnal drive, Michael dared to ask, "Where are we going?"

Selene didn't say a word, simply concentrating harder on the slick road ahead.

With an exasperated sigh, Michael resumed his window-gazing, pondering once more how he could have ever fallen for a woman like Selene. It was incomprehensible. Samantha had always been the kindest ray of sunshine, always smiling, always happy.

Her gaze was fixated on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel to the point where her knuckles whitened. Over a century of routine, shattered by one night of sheer hell, was nerve-wracking to the vampiress. Her mind was splitting from the inside out, all her carefully bottled-up emotions returning with a vengeance she had not experienced since the death of her family.

It was time for change.

* * *

They drove for hours on end, Selenes tireless gaze fixed solely on the road ahead, unsure of where she was going, unable to come to grips with her present situation, and definitely clueless on what to do with Michael.

She refused to admit any emotions she held towards him, other than a natural responsibility for him that came with anyone who decided to turn another.

As his sire, she felt slightly overwhelmed by the prospect of practically taking care of him.

A disgruntled sigh from the vehicles other occupant awoke Selene from her thoughts, causing her to instinctively whip her head towards the disturbance.

This sudden break from concentration allowed her to finally notice the gradual lightening of the horizon, forcing her to cease her journey to nowhere, and think more of her destination. Driving for the sake of driving would get them nowhere, and with increasing light threatening to char her body to a crisp, they'd have to find a place to rest and lay low _somewhere_.

Her cold eyes scanned the roadside for a hotel or inn that was open at this unearthly hour.

She soon found an appropriately disheveled motel, parked, and proceeded to exit the car. She paused, noticing the angelic expression on Michaels sleeping face, for he had fallen asleep a few hours into the drive.

_It appears he's retained his human habit of sleeping at night.._ She thought, a glimpse of a smile passing quickly over her features, before she swatted it away with an impatient scowl, mentally scolding herself.

She hurriedly exited the car, slamming its door almost in protest to her emotions, awakening its sleeping occupant with a start.

_Why the hell does she always have to do that?! _He berated, finding her stress relieving methods less than satisfying.

Only then did he realize their location.

"Vienna!?" He exclaimed incredulously, eyeing the near by 'Welcome' sign with a resolute glare.

He still hadn't finished gawking at the signpost when Selene returned, only rolling her eyes at his questioning glances.

"Yes, we're in Vienna. Now get up, quickly, sunrise is nearly upon us, and I don't suppose you'd want to be around when it hits." She commented, aware that Michael may or may not be as receptive to the damage of the suns eternal glare due to his transformation.

He grudgingly began to lift himself from the comfort of the car seat, until he fully realized the threat the sun posed to Selene and her kind.

Rising with much less reluctance, he immediately raced to relieve Selene of the few – but heavy – bags she held.

Selenes response was nothing more than a cold, calculating stare, and Michael backed off instantly, like a scolded puppy, instead busying himself with the surprisingly painstaking task of removing the cooler from the back seat.

His newfound strength aided him greatly, and he soon managed to unwedge the miniature refrigerator from its unorthodox position between the drivers and backseat.

Michael - cooler now in hand - jogged silently after Selene, as she had already gotten their room key, and was making for their 'suite'.

The building was a cramped run-down, with only 6 shabby rooms, and a 'lobby' of sorts, where processed human foods that made Michaels mouth water were sold.

He had almost forgotten his duty as hunger consumed him, urging him in the direction of the snack machine.

With a slightly glazed look over his eyes, he reached for some change – only to find that his pants were pocket-less due to his transformations, and that the tatters that were left of his shirt were fit for nothing less than rags.

Now painfully aware of his disheveled state, he quickly forgot his stomach, and set off to find Selene once more.

When he had carefully sniffed out the entrance to each preceding room, he found Selene in number 4, hastily unpacking her portable arsenal. Uncertainty and doubt was on her pale features, illuminated by the sickly glow of a single light-bulb, as she had inevitably drawn the blinds closed before the harmful rays of dawn could penetrate the vicinity.

Upon his entering, Selene motioned for Michael to place the cooler on the peeling surface of what must have once been a coffee table, though he doubted it could barely hold its own weight, never mind that of a blood-filled mini-fridge.

Turns out the dilapidated stool was sturdier than it seemed, and though he half-expected it to crumble at the smallest touch, it held out well, and Michael was thankful to be relieved of his burden.

Turning back to Selene, his own anxiety increased at the sight of her worry, and soon the temptation to verbalize his thoughts was too strong to resist.

"What's wrong?" He mumbled, expecting a cold glare, or a bitter remark his way, but was presently surprised when she merely shook her head and softly replied, "They'll find us.. Chances are they've already realized who.. Slew Viktor, and now they'll send Death Dealers, as many as they can muster after us.. They'll find us, there's no way they can't.."

This unexpected throw of emotions startled him, and for a moment all he could do was stand there and stare, almost longingly at Selene.

She turned her head slowly towards him, catching him staring quite openly, his face flushing red as his eyes immediately darted back to the floor.

As he gazed at the worn-off carpeting, she managed to notice his tattered garments. _I completely forgot about clothing. _She mused, then dismissed her thoughts for Michaels ragged attire, and thought of what they were to do next.

For a moment, she pondered, until a plan came to her mind as if stuck by lightning.

"We leave for Zagreb at nightfall! We'll pick up supplies there, and head for Belgrade,"

For the first time since Michael met Selene, he saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes, and as she voiced her plan in such likeness of a military general, he began to wonder if that precedent look of worry on her face was purely imagined.

"If I know anything about search parties, they'll probably have a few sent west, exactly where we are, but if we go south-east, we'll be able to avoid them entirely, and loop-up behind them!"

Her sudden burst of enthusiasm had poor Michael staring again, but this time she paid no attention, running through the plan in her mind a few times, before swiftly assembling her miniature arsenal once more, placing the sacred weapons in their proper cases.

Upon casing her Berettas, she yawned once, and as the natural stupor of her kind took over, she fell into sub-consciousness, half-curled over the moth-bitten bedspread, her Death Dealer attire still on.

This made Michael smile automatically, and the thought, _I wonder if she ever takes it off.. _crossed his mind.

* * *

Selene stayed true to her word, and a few hours before dusk she had packed all her possessions, and was sitting on the bed (as Michael was occupying the sofa), drinking tentatively from a plastic bag filled with a deep crimson liquid, marked Ziodex Industries.

She was never too fond of the coppery-tasting liquid, drinking it only for sustenance, and her face showed it.

Gingerly swallowing the last few drops in the bag, she made for the bathrooms sink, and with a bit of effort, managed to open the rusting tap, releasing the flow of unsurprisingly iron-tinted yellow water, rinsing the remains of the bag.

She disposed of the sack, then went towards a sleeping Michael, with the intent of waking him up.

"Michael.." Selene began, her voice barely above a whisper, her cold brown eyes softening slightly at the sight of his rising chest.

"Michael." She said, this time a little insistent.

After a trying minute of verbally attempting to rouse him, she finally gave up, and with an exasperated sigh, she drew a pistol.

Driving the muzzle of her weapon into his side with a twist, she got him to leap off the sofa, emitting a truly disturbing cross between a squeal and a growl.

Selene instinctively stepped aside, watching with a single eyebrow raised, and a tentative half-smile on her lips, shaking her head in mock disdain.

"What was that for?!" Michael hissed, still massaging what must have now become a bruise in his ribcage.

"You wouldn't wake up; I had been trying for ages." She replied dryly, swatting her smirk away with a simple roll of her eyes, as if she was stating the obvious.

Michael was on the verge of sending another childish comment her way, when he stopped himself short, and not a moment too soon.

Selene was now the one who stared, an odd look of worry on her face.

His eyes were black.


	2. Counting the Dead

Ok, I did intend to have another Selene/Michael chapter, but then, as I tried writing it, I realized that I had almost forgotten about the Vampires, Lycans, and just about everyone else. So this chapter is focusing on the Vampires. I promise, either the next chapter will be with Michael and Selene.  
  
And I'm very, very, **very** sorry about the delay. Not only have I been my usual lazy self, but I've had sailing and canoe camp to attend to, so I haven't touched the mouse for a while now..  
  
Oh well, enough with my blathering, and on with the fic! Reviews are at the bottom, as is a one-line preview of the next chapter/its title.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Underworld, or its characters, but I'll tell you when I do, ok?

* * *

**Chapter 2: Counting the Dead**

"Not.. Too.. Far now.." The words echoed through the labyrinth of the lycan sewers, tracing back to a wheezing, battle-worn young death dealer, his right hand outstretched before him, his left cradling his midsection, preventing slippery entrails from spilling out on to the already blood-stained sewer.

Through the stench of blood, gore, mold and excrement, he could feel a trickle of air – nothing more than a faint wisp, but enough to hint that perhaps an exit to this foul pit was near.

The sorry vampire had been attacked by a lycan a good 3 times his size, who managed to tear a nice large hole in him, before a fellow Death Dealer stopped the bastard in his tracks with a few rounds of silver-plated ammunition.

He had been wandering for hours, using whatever strength he had left to make it back to Ordoghaz. He was one of the only surviving vampires from the attack on the lycan den, his fate fairer than most of his vampiric companions, their bodies left to rot in the filth of a thousand rats.

He preferred not to think of them as decaying corpses, as he side-stepped the mangled remains of his former captain, Kahn.

_Good lord! The beasts tear their victims apart! Like animals! _

He was indeed quite inexperienced in the art of war, and had never really seen a lycan in person. These last few hours of hell had been the biggest wake-up call of his immortal life.

Suddenly, the youthful vampire was on his back, having slipped on the excess blood leaking out of Kahns decimated corpse.

This sudden movement had his blood clots re-opening, his own lifeblood spilling out into the night, mingling with that of his fallen comrades.

_Fuck!_ He cursed, as he once more scooped up his innards, wincing as he placed them carefully within the horizontal slash across his abdomen.

As he began slowly inserting his bowels back into his body, he paused, fascinated at the way the tendons in his hand rippled beneath pale skin, illuminated by moonlight shining through cracks in the ceiling.

Soon he was almost childishly absorbed in flexing his fingers, then stopped abruptly as he envisioned the foul yellowing teeth of a lycan remorselessly tearing them apart.

He shook his head in disdain, focusing once more on carefully slipping his intestines back through the messy slit. Pain shot through his side as he proceeded, but he suppressed a gasp, knowing that if his insides stayed out of his dying form, they would dry out, surely killing him.

After 10 painstaking minutes of cautiously inserting his gut bit by bit, he got up with slow and deliberate movements, intent on causing the least pain possible as he righted himself, up, away from the gore.

_Now all I have to do is haul myself out of this hellhole.._ He thought, taking small, limping steps as he focused on the clear goal he had set for himself.

* * *

Panic. Madness. Chaos. Just some of the words that described the state of Ordoghaz.  
  
Three death dealers had arrived, a few hours after the garish events in the Underworld, two in fairly good shape, the other slung between them, his face a bloody mess.

Later that night, after the wounded had been taken care of, and the two others given the opportunity to clean up, they were both taken to the dojo for debriefing.  
  
The information cultivated was shocking. Only three of the 30-some vampires on the raid had returned, and though they were sure that more would turn up in the next week or two, they dared not send a search party down into the lycan sewers to find them all.

* * *

_Amelia and Viktor, dead?_ The thoughts of Amelia's protégé spun blindly in his head, sending a wave of nausea to his stomach as he pictured his mistress, and Viktor, the strongest vampire in existence, slaughtered, their blood leaking freely out of their decimated bodies.

But that wasn't nearly as frightening as the shocking knowledge that Kraven, Viktors protégé, had plotted the downfall of Amelia, and that Selene, who was the daughter Viktor never had, had supposedly sliced his head clean off, which his own sword no less.. And according to the returning Death Dealers, to save a _lycan._

Wasn't she the one single-mindedly devoted to their removal from the face of the Earth?

Then, as he was about to further question the events of that night, a maidservant burst in, rather hysterically recounting a tale that neither Dmitri nor the surviving pair could discern or follow.

"Slow down my dear!" Dmitri finally broke in, his voice as soothing and calm as he could get it, considering his current situation.

"Hush... What is your name?" He consoled, determined to get a straight answer out of the panicked girl.

"D-Dominique.. M-My name is.. Dominique." She managed to choke out, after several moments of stuttering indistinctly.

"Alright, Dominique, explain to me with as much clarity as you posses, _what happened?"_ He prodded, uncertain as to what might have scared the poor newly-turned into such a state.

She nodded, then spoke, "A-A.. A monster! In the Crypt!

"Yes.." Dmitri motion for her to continue, knowing that if what the maidservant said was true, then he would be in for a _whole_ lot more problems than he bargained for.

"V-Very tall.." She shuddered as she spoke, her already deathly pale face drained from all its color.

'A-And it was.. A-A dark b-b-blue, and silver.."

"Yes, go on..." His fears of a lycan having snuck into Ordoghaz were unrealized, but this thing she was describing led him to another question. _If not a lycan, then what!_

"It h-had b-blonde hair.. A-And a n-normal face, but claws.. O-on each finger. It was wearing black trousers.. Nothing else.. When it saw me.. It let out a roar.. It had many sharp teeth.. Like a dog."

* * *

_Ahh! Freedom! At last!_ The first thoughts that popped into the last Elder Marcus's mind.

A surge of renewed strength aided him greatly as he tore apart the interlocking hatches and pipes that separated him from his first breath in over 200 years.

Only after the echoes of razor sharp claws against metal faded, did Marcus realize that he had just torn through his own tomb, and only then did he realize he was not alone..

The torn body of what must have been.. Yes, a lycan, his nose told him. But wait, what was this.. He could trace the scent of that lycan – who was most definitely male, old, middle-rank, and far too scrawny to b- What?! He knew every last detail about this dog! From his German decent, all the way down to the fact that he had been killed by Viktor himself!_ What? Viktor? That bloody bastard was awake?!_

He even knew that the mongrel had been dragged in by a very angry female Death Dealer, who smelt suspiciously of lycan, and that he had been turned by Lucian, shortly before Lucian was killed.  
  
As the Elder attempted to comprehend his surroundings, a jolt of pain hit him like a speeding train. Clutching his head as if it were to split open, images flashed before his eyes.

_Relief filled him once more as a wounded lycan was brought into the lab, a nasty gash across his abdomen dribbled out thick, black blood. The Death Dealers sword must have pierced his liver..  
  
With the excitement of a child receiving a new toy, he swooped down on his wounded pack mate, examination tools in hand.  
  
As he probed about the jagged puncture wound, he confirmed with interest that it was indeed a silver sword that had pierced the skin of this poor newly turned. Recently, scouts were returning with oozing, inflamed wounds, reportedly stinging more than any normal cut should. It had worried them all that perhaps the vampires had begun to forge their swords from silver.  
  
If this was indeed the case, then his kind would have bigger problems to face..  
  
_As Marcus came to, he realized that these were not the normal images that accompanied awakening from the blood of a vampire. As he was about to come to a conclusion, another wave of nausea hit him.  
  
_Lucian would not be happy.. They had been searching so long for Abram Kassanov.. When they finally found him, Lucian expected results after so many miserable failures. _

_Yet another innocent dragged into this war. And certainly not the last. A very promising new subject had been found, and to Singes delight, he was not only the closest link to Corvinus himself they had managed to find, but he was related on both sides.._

_His grandparents had moved from Budapest to America in the 40's, carrying along with them the bloodlines of Alexander Corvinus.._

_Some years later, they bore a single son, who was to marry Marianne Thatcher, strangely enough, who was yet another Corvinus descendant.  
  
Their progeny, the young intern they had spotted lurking around Budapests central hospital, was Michael Corvin.  
  
As Singe stared aimlessly at the black liquid, lost in thought, a dark figure burst into the room, an intense look of cold anticipation dominating his features, a golden pendant resting on his chest.  
  
"And what about this one?" He asked, eyes alight with morbid curiosity.  
  
"Another failure.." Singe responded morosely, shaking his head as he drained the useless blood in the labs sink.  
  
Lucian wasn't exactly pleased to hear this.  
  
His face contorting into sheer rage, he marched up to the limp figure of Abram Kassanov, and put a fist right through him. With a twisting motion, he disemboweled the poor man. Lucian exited the room with an expression of pure, undiluted fury, leaving poor Singe to clean up the mess.. _

As Marcus strained to comprehend all this, it finally hit him.  
  
_WHAAAT?!?! LUCIAN?! ALIVE?_

This made no sense, Viktor, awake before him, a Death Dealer who smelt of live, newly-turned lycan, Lucian, _alive_? And definitely the strangest of all - he knew this from a simple whiff of the room.

There was something seriously wrong with this century.

Then, as the last surviving Vampire Elder hoisted himself out of the remnants of his tomb, a whole new wave of scents collided with his nose.

Another Death Dealer.. Mason, he believed.. Had arrived earlier, smelling suspiciously of..

_By the Elders!_ _This can't be!_ The scent of Amelias sweet blood was traced faintly on the floor, alongside that of Mason. His boots had trod all over her precious blood!

"This can't be.." He thought aloud.. "Two Elders awake at once.. Amelia.. Dead." He nearly collapsed as the sheer enormity of his situation hit him.

Then.. As if Fate was determined to do away with him then and there, he noticed the odd, silvery royal-blue sheen of his skin.. And his claw-tipped fingers.

As a sinking feeling filled his age-old stomach, he pulled himself from the wreckage, and ran to the sliding doors.

His form, reflected in the glass, once fit and well maintained, was now _beyond_ fit, and in perfect condition.. Not to mention – he was blue. Royal, almost purple blue, with an iridescent silver sheen to it.. His hair had remained blonde, but dog-like black claws tipped his fingers.

He backed away slowly, at first, then as he turned to run, hoping beyond all hope that this was some grotesque nightmare. Then he slipped on the slick black blood of the deceased lycan, sending him sprawling on the floor of the Crypt.

_That was it.. Viktor had killed this lycan, and it was not the blood of a fellow kinsman that awakened me, but that of a filthy dog!_

As he quickly lifted himself off the cold crypt floor, a single thought coursed through his mind.

"Abomination.." He whispered, his voice barely audible, even to his own ears. He had become everything the Council had tried to prevent for the past millennia.

And to think, he had gone to sleep hoping that when he woke up, the world would be a better place.. Even then he doubted that greatly, but never did he think it would be like this..

His dismal thoughts were interrupted, as a young maidservant appeared at the door, her gaze directed at the floor, having not yet seen Marcus.

A sudden growl escaped his throat, a primordial reflex to a lesser being entering his domain uninvited.  
  
Before Marcus could apologize to the poor, frightened girl, she had whipped her head up, and upon viewing his monstrous form, fled screaming.  
  
Suddenly, he realized that surely the Coven would not accept such monstrosity, and would never allow him to live, last Elder or not.

If they found him like this, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be dead.

* * *

Next up, in _A Hastened Departure_, Michael regains control of himself, and Selene attempts to get them to Zagreb before dawn.

* * *

Oookay.. Here are the replies to the reviews I have so far received.  
  
**TearsOfAngels-xx/Rooney23 **- Thanks, and yep, it's my first fic, not my first story, but certainly my longest. 

**Priscilla – **Nyahaa! My first review! Well, I did.. Even though I hate cliffhangers myself, I decided the best way to conclude chapter 1 was to leave it at a rather pathetic cliffhanger..  
  
You don't like how they're treating each other? =D Well, that'll change, over time.. You have to understand what they've been through.. Michael would definitely be much warmer to her – if she'd let him..  
  
She's spent the last 127 years of her 149-year old life focusing on extinguishing the race that supposedly massacred her family, then all-of-a-sudden, her habitual existence of sleep; eat; train; kill is shattered, causing her to kill the one living being she actually cared about, all for someone she'd known for less than two days.

That would shake up just about any normal being – Vampire, Lycan, or Human..

She refuses to admit any emotions towards him, being a schooled warrior and such. Plus, she's felt very little beyond hate, anger, and loathing for a very long time. Anything else just plain scares her.

She'd riddle herself with UV bullets and willingly toss herself into broad daylight before acknowledging it though.. =D


	3. A Hastened Departure

Eep, I seem to have a talent for procrastination.. Sorry again guys, couldn't update sooner; not only was I a lazy ass this past month or so, but various computer bans, and a great deal more writing assignments than I can manage have led me to minor writers block..  
  
But enough of my crap, I've finally got an idea where this story's going, and now a bit of a pattern.  
  
One chapter Selene and Michael, one Marcus/Vampires, with the first page/half page focusing on Selene, another Selene and Michael, then finally, a lycan centered one, with the first page/half page focusing on Michael, then repeat.

Also, originally this chapter was a good few pages longer, but I cut it down to 8 after realizing that not only did it not any longer live up to its name, but it was pretty much like a useless run-on sentence.

Good news though, the excess will be uploaded as chapter 5, along with chapter 4.  
  
As a reminder, all disclaimers apply, replies to reviews are at the end, and the name of the next chapter and a one-line preview will be included before the reviews.

* * *

**Chapter 3: A Hastened Departure**

Selene stood transfixed, her gaze locked on to the obsidian orbs that were now in place of Michaels usual turquoise.

Unsure of his intentions, she backed away reproachfully, watching as his skin began to shimmer silvery-blue, his fangs elongate.

His nose twitched in a dog-like fashion, sniffing tentatively here and there, inhaling deeply once in a while, his eyes half-shut for a moment, reveling in an unknown scent only his subconscious mind could recognize.

_What the hell am I doing?! _Michael thought frantically, as his mind strained for control over bestial instinct.

Selenes discomfort increased tenfold, as she was still unsure of his sudden change into his Hybrid form.

Suddenly, another scent hit his sensitive nostrils, and he bared his rather large fangs, a low growl reverberating in his throat. He whipped his head towards one of the dirt-encrusted windows, his growl increasing in volume.  
  
For a moment Selene pondered his sudden change in interest, until the scent hit her less acute nostrils.

Michaels conscious brain recognized the scent to be that of the inglorious bastard who shot him, the one Selene referred to as Kraven.. Before he could seize control of himself, he had broken through the window, and was already tearing after the long-gone bastard, who could apparently run quite fast.  
  
The treacherous vampire had most likely realized that Selene was not alone, and bolted when he heard the throaty growl.  
  
"Michael!? She yelled, nimbly leaping out of the shattered window pane to chase after him.  
  
The cowardly ex-regent was indeed lucky – for he had arrived in a stolen car, conveniently parked close to the motel.

Escaping certain death by but a hair, he sped off into the night, tires screeching, leaving wide skid marks in his wake.

Michael, deprived of his prey, let out a monstrous roar, cursing blood as he gave up on the futile chase.  
  
Selene only watched in wonder, quite surprised by Michaels bestial actions. He had been a peace-loving intern one moment, rampaging beast the next.  
  
The lycan, no doubt, furious at having lost its quarry.

Selene stood silent for a moment, then stalked up to him carefully, well aware that his anger could just as easily be directed at her.  
  
"Michael..." She spoke softly, prepared to draw her Berettas if the need presented itself.

Something must have clicked with him, and as he turned to face her, his breathing had slowed considerably, his growl fading.

She marveled momentarily at the effect she had on his disposition, but quickly shrugged that away, as she faced the problems at hand.  
  
"Let's go.." She snapped suddenly, turning on her heel, heading for their room. Daylight was approaching fast, and her last wish was to be caught outside at dawn.  
  
As the subtle transformation took over his bestial form, Michael slid back into humanity, bewildered at his own actions not a minute ago.  
  
Having no reason to be angry anymore, he simply nodded, and trailed after Selene like the lost puppy he was.  
  
She kept her icy walls up, even though her mind was reeling. _How could he sense it?!_ She thought frantically, _And Kraven.._ She couldn't smell him before Michael was out the window, and even then she had barely noticed it.  
  
Beyond astonishment, she felt deep regret that Michael hadn't torn that worthless bastard to shreds, and an odd sense of longing, as she watched his Hybrid form in action.  
  
Shaking off her troubling thoughts, she once more focused on the task at hand – Getting them to Zagreb before sunrise.  
  
Quickly double-checking that they had left nothing behind, she strode off to the lobby – instructing Michael to stay put, as she couldn't afford to chase after him once more.  
  
And so Michael sat alone, still absorbed in the aftershock of his transformation.  
  
For a few fleeting moments, he had felt power like nothing he'd experienced before, utter dominance, sheer force, ultimate power.

While a part of him was horrified at his bestial desires, another only wished to experience such supremacy, such utter control.

Massaging his temples, he hobbled off to the bathroom, intent on at least washing the muck and grime off his face, as their room was lacking a shower of any sort.

But when he lifted his weary head to the cracked mirror, expecting to meet his normal, green-blue eyes in the reflection, he was instead chagrined to see them engulfed in blackness.

_What the hell?!_ He jerked his weary head back in surprise, having not yet recovered from the energy loss required for the change.  
  
His eyes were black, but he retained his human appearance.  
  
_Something must be triggering the transformation.. _He though, far too tired to try and figure it out.

* * *

Selene strode briskly down the hall, her serene features showing little of the turmoil inside her.

Making her way to the unkempt lobby, littered with garbage and cigarette butts, she stepped up to the managers desk, depositing a handful of bills on the counter, grossly over-paying no doubt.  
  
But she cared little, for her main concern was just to get out of Vienna as fast as possible, among other things.  
  
She noticed as she had left him that Michaels eyes had once more blackened, though he remained human.  
  
_Why, why now?!_ Selene thought hurriedly as she marched back to their room.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw sitting on the bed.  
  
There was Michael, as ruggedly handsome as ever, fondling her coat protectively.  
  
She jerked her head back in surprise, as Michael flushed brilliant pink, quickly tossing the coat aside.  
  
"Um, sorry, I, uh.." He stuttered in humility, as Selene suppressed a feeble laugh.  
  
"I checked out," She interrupted him sparing the poor hybrid the embarrassment of explaining himself.  
  
"We'll be leaving now, dawn is close, and we have yet to see how you react to sunlight." She spoke as she briskly assembled her Berettas, sheathing them in a pair of holsters attached to her thighs.  
  
_Aha.._ Michael though with a lust-ridden grin.  
  
He had always wondered where she kept those.

She didn't even bother to ask as she turned and saw him smiling like an idiot, rolling her eyes as he quickly hid his amusement.  
  
"Come on." She spoke, shouldering her bags, motioning for Michael to take the cooler.

Without another word, Selene stepped out of their room, a rather smitten Michael in tow, eyes riveted to her backside.  
  
Unnoticing, or uncaring rather, she strode out to the parking lot, slamming the car door behind her as she deposited the bags in the back.

Flooring the gas after Michael had entered the Mercedes, she sped into the night, her reckless driving habits well exceeding the local speed limit.  
  
Michael was asleep before they were out of Vienna.

_Apparently the lycan is dominant.._ Selene pondered restlessly, as she had been wondering which aspects of his existence would be influenced by what.  
  
Newly turned lycans received a surge of energy during their first few transformations, but after reverting to their human form, they were completely exhausted, making easy prey for the watchful Death Dealer.  
  
_No,_ She corrected herself, _Lycans are not my problem, not my enemies..  
  
_Still, although she harbored the knowledge that lycans were mere innocents, 127 years of believing them to be merciless beasts would not be shrugged away so easily.  
  
Shaking off her troubling thoughts, she shot a glance at Michaels sleeping form.. So peaceful.  
  
Memories of smiling twin girls, sleeping like angels, as Selene bent down to kiss their foreheads before heading off to bed herself.  
  
Pain shot through her as images of decimated corpses flashed before her eyes, reopening wounds that had never fully healed.  
  
Tears threatened to stream down her alabaster cheeks as she ran through every memory she had left.  
  
Her family.. Viktor.. The lycans.. And Michael, most recently.  
  
Again she turned her head to look at his sleeping form, slumped over the hand rest in what must have been an extremely uncomfortable position.  
  
_He must've collapsed on the spot... _Feeling pity for the disfigured hybrid, she pulled over on the highway, easing to a halt in the shoulder.  
  
"Michael.." She prodded him gently, trying to rouse him in the most humane manner possible.  
  
He didn't stir, so she prodded him harder, repeating his name.  
  
She sighed at his comatose appearance, deciding perhaps it would be faster to simply move him herself.  
  
An unknown part of her relished in the simple contact, as she gently lifted his head from its cramped position, and rested it on the seat belt strap.  
  
Slowly, she turned back to the steering wheel, starting the car with less reckless vigor than usual.

At that moment, a blunter part of her decided to take over, and she floored the gas once more, disgusted by her thoughts and actions.  
  
Poor Michael has his head shake up quite badly as it flew off its resting place and made contact with the passenger window.  
  
Waking with a start, he sat bolt upright, massaging his right temple tenderly.  
  
Turning to meet Selenes steely gaze, he chose to remain silent, instead preoccupying himself with counting small animals that darted in front of or behind the pitch black Mercedes.  
  
They traveled without headlights, as Selene could navigate perfectly well without them, and in truth, could see better without their sickly glow.  
  
The rest of the night passed similarly, Selene driving with insane speeds over the Slovenian countryside, Michael flitting in and out of slumber.

* * *

Next up, in **Hunt Denied**, the lycans regroup and plan their next move.

* * *

**Replies to Reviews:**

**Iridescent eyes: **Thanks! D Really? I think my writing has a long way to go until it's anywhere near as good as I want it to be, but if you say so..

**Lucet99: **Thanks! Yeah, I'm sorta sick of all those fics where Michael's as stiff as a piece of driftwood, Selene's emotionless, or the opposite, where they're this melodramatic 'woe to me' couple..

**Beta Slave: **Lmfao, love the name. Yes, you're my beta, and there's nothing you can do about it. :D "Mysterious, dark, suspenseful, and action-packed"? Rotf. The only action so far's been that little flashback in Confusion, and this little Kraven bit here.. I'll definitely have to think of some dodgy way to kill that slimy bastard.. And yes, the lines may be cheesy, but funny like hell to read. Now get back to betaing Hunt Denied! –cracks whip-

**Asia Cwiakala: **Oh, yeah, I'm quite sick of the bigger cities myself, especially when they involve the Death Dealers tracking them and such. The first places they'd check are London, Paris, Munich, and all those other big capitols. No one ever thinks of the obscure little Slavic countries and what possibilities for concealment lay there!

**Fig-aruna: **:D Second person who's said that.. And thanks! I find that's one of the best compliments you can get. Yeah, I'm thinking of becoming a fantasy writer when I get out of my damned school, so I'm trying my best to shape up as much as possible before then!


	4. Hunt Denied

Good god, it's been what, 9 months? More? Huge apologies for the lack of updates. I can type up all the petty excuses I have for not updating, but in the end it's really just my own laziness and lack of inspiration. So now that I have hereby gotten up off my lazy ass, I present to you:

-----------------------------

**Chapter 4: Hunt Denied**

_The thrill of the hunt, the joy of tearing ones prey apart with eager claws, the feel of flesh between yellowed teeth._

The prey was close now, not much longer, and those reveries would become reality. 

_He ran on all fours, surpassing both wolf and man in speed and strength. _

Almost tasting sweet vampire flesh, he reaches the edge of the woods, his prey in plain sight now.

Fear, he reeked of it. The pathetic vampire ran with all the speed he possessed.

Not enough to escape the jaws of a hungry lycan, no..

Yes! Exerting one final burst of unearthly speed, he leapt to his victim, gaping jaws lined with razor-sharp teeth, watching with excitement as his prey turned to face him.

"No! Not now! I don't want to die!" Squealed the prey like a stuck pig, reduced to hysterics. 

His arms were trembling, shielding his terrified face, but the fatal blow didn't come.

Slowly lowering his outstretched arms, he glanced up at his attacker, expecting to meet maddened eyes, and an ugly bestial snout. Instead the form standing before him was but a man, deceptively human.

The lycan in him screamed its disapproval, but he knew this narcissistic cur was off limits.

A coward, but one of authority no less. 

"_Lucian." The regent spat with malice, his craven air dissolved, replaced by haughty disdain._

"Kraven." Oh how he longed to tear the bastard apart.

"I see you have little regard for your own rules." He spoke malevolently, the words slithering of his tongue like slime.

"And what makes you think that?" The lycan leader's words were stone cold, as he forced a smile.

"Ha, you keep your men from changing at will and hunting freely, but you yourself indulge in the simple pleasures." He scoffed, hate dripping from his words. "Does this remind you of someone?"

With a feral snarl, Lucian's partially transformed hand was at Kraven's throat before he had time to register being slammed up against the rough bark of a large chestnut.

Lucian was hissing threats in his ear.

"Don't you ever, EVER even think about suggesting that again, or I swear upon her grave that you will die!"

With that, the lycan released his hold upon the trembling vampire, turning on his heels and disappearing into the night.

Raising a hand to finger the clawed indentations in his neck, Kraven's featured contorted in disgust at the realization that the slobbering cur had touched him. 

--------------------------------

Michael twitched awake, his mind still reeling in the 19th century, Lucian's past still swirling around in his head.

He was about to tell Selene about what he had just seen, but decided against it, certain that she wouldn't be particularly sympathetic.

With a small sigh, he shifted back into a quiet slumber, hoping that his rest would not again be disturbed.

-------------------------------

"Not.. Again." Muttered a seemingly young lycan, as the memory faded, and the cement walls of the lycan underworld materialized around him.

It was the third time Adrik had been bombarded with memories not his own.

A few months after his turning in 1806, the memories were far less frequent, and in a year, they were gone altogether.

But recently, visions of his sire were clouding his thoughts, grisly images or battle and carnage, as well as tender moments with Sonja, and of course, the day this wretched war began.

After the battle in the Underworld took place, and the anomaly of Michael was discovered, the first thing the surviving lycans did was scour the tunnels for survivors, for the dead.

The body count was mind-numbing.

68 lycans in one night; twice as many as the vampire scum.

After the initial shock, the wounded were taken to the infirmary, the dead rounded up and put to rest in the traditional lycan manner. Their bodies, man or lycan, were taken out of the sewers, to a large forest near one of the exits, and buried under the light of the full moon.

The terminal shared a similar fate; they were cleaned up and fed, then left to die in peace and tranquility, as every lycan should.

Lucian's and Raze's corpses were prepared with special care, their graves marked with the planting of a small sapling, and a funeral of the most sincere care and preparation.

Tears were shed, companions lost, but the lycans endured, as they always had.

But the great battle had been fought, and both sides suffered great losses.

Their alpha was dead, as was the only other one of them capable of leading them. They were in no position to plot any form of comeback.

Then a younger lycan, unproven in the field of battle, but present at the death of Viktor, made a suggestion no one could dismiss.

Michael.

He had fought Viktor – days after his turning, inexperienced in the art of war, and yet, he had fought equally, almost won.

If Michael allied with them, victory was almost certain.

But then, pointed out another, there was the little complication of Selene.

None of the pack could come to a conclusion about her motives.

Selene, one of the most feared Death Dealers ever sired, had hunter their kind with such ferocity; few didn't fear her wrath. To see her risk her life, defy the laws of her entire species, and above all, kill her sire, for a _lycan_, was mind boggling.

If they tried to take Michael, not a single one of them doubted she'd pose a problem.

Many opted to kill her on the spot, relieve themselves of the confusion, but some noted that in doing so, they could vanquish whatever chances they had of getting Michael willingly.

The vampire had been seen biting him, a desperate attempt to rescue him from silver nitrate poisoning.

They had walked out together, but none had followed them thereafter, and so their path was uncertain from there on.

After much argument, they came to a decision.

They would seek out Michael and the vampire, follow them, track their movements, and make the decision from there.

Adrik deployed a group of trackers after much debate, armed to the teeth in case trouble ensued.

He prayed that Michael would co-operate. They had no other options.

None were in a position to lead, and Adrik was temporarily in charge merely because he had been sired by Lucian himself; instantly awarding him a rather high standing in the pack, as Lucian had turned few since his supposed death.

The relatively young lycan wondered what his great sire would have done if their positions were reversed.

But no, Lucian was dead and buried, so he was in charge, for the time being.

Adrik didn't think much about how they'd convince the hybrid to side with them, as his main focus was catching up to the pair before their trail vanished beyond recognition.

He himself saw Michael as a means to the end of a war that had raged for centuries, his people in constant fear of extinction, condemned to seek shelter in this god-forsaken sewer, the constant rattle of opposing gunfire to remind them of their places.

All of this swirled around in the lycan's skull, adding to the headache obtained from the disorienting memories that once more clouded his vision.

Leaning against the cold cement that lined his sleeping chambers, resting his head against the cylindrical curve of the pipe-like sewer wall, he sighed deeply at thought of the bombardment of questions that would most likely assail his ears today.

A hollow metallic clank awoke Adrik from his thoughts, signaling the beginning of the onslaught of mindless questionings and interrogations.

But to his surprise, instead of the usual inquisitive pup, it was - Rikard, an old friend of Adrik's.

Rikard was rather tall and well-built, standing at about 6' 4'', his dark brown hair cropped in military-fashion. He smiled sheepishly at his superior, shutting the steel door quietly, sensing his master's increasing weariness.

Nodding for him to come in, Adrik exhaled in relief – at last – someone he could confide to.

"So, tell me Rikard, what news of the hybrid have our trackers uncovered today?" Adrik smiled with no small hint of sarcasm – the trackers had yet to catch the smallest trace of the hybrid and his Death Dealer.

"Sir, the day's hunt was unsuccessful – but a pup, Dai – had apparently caught a whiff of the pair while heading westward in the North Tunnel."

"Send trackers immediately – Rikard, this might be it, I want no pebble unturned, no inch of that tunnel unexplored!" Adrik's reaction was an unexpected one, but welcomed from his previous apathy.

"Right away, sir, but the pup wishes to speak with you." The lycan shifted his gaze to his feet, and he could hear Adrik slump back against the concrete.

"Very well then, bring him in…" He replied, and Rikard left the room as quietly as he came.

Without delay, the door slid open once more, revealing a gangly young boy no older than 14 who seemed grossly out of place, his soft Asian looks contrasting against the sharp Slavic features of the others.

He hesitated slightly before speaking, his eyes cast downwards in submission to his newly-appointed master. "A strange scent down the west wing, sir." Dai was a scrawny young Japan-born pup, but his appearance did not account for his tremendous knowledge in computers and tracking skills acquired before his turning. The young lycan had only seen three moons, but he had adjusted well and had quickly proved his worth to Lucian.

The pup spoke with a slightly stilted Asian accent, but his information deeply interested Adrik. He'd found a smear of blood – vampire, belonging to the Death Dealer called Selene, followed by a faint – but unmistakable whiff of hybrid; a neutral scent opposed to the lycans' alkaline fragrance and the vampire's acidic stench.

The blood snaked its way through the sewer system, taking turns left and right until it seemed apparent that the pair had found an entrance but decided to try and throw off any weary lycans that might be passing by.

"Rikard, deploy the trackers, get at least four teams on that tunnel, the pup will lead the way, quickly now." answered Adrik after a moment of silence. "We'll get them before dawn if they're anywhere in the city… Unlikely, though, that vampire bitch is no fool; she's probably high-tailed it long ago."

Rikard nodded solemnly and gave note to ready the trackers and assign Dai his weaponry.

Adrik let out a heavy sigh; during the conversation a new problem had arisen; the vampires were crippled, leaderless, but nowhere near beaten. They could launch an attack at any moment, and they had to be on their feet when the inevitable happened, but they could not abandon the search either. The events that had set this chain of events into motion were only the beginning of the end. The final battle had yet to be fought, and both sides had suffered great losses. This time there would be no mercy, if there ever was such a thing between the warring clans.

More sighing. He wondered how Lucian handled it; the pressure. The ever-pressing thought that this could be their last day; but the hope that they could withstand another. The weighing of decisions, the knowledge that you might be the cause of your comrades' doom. It was a delicate balance between responsibility and insanity. If not you, then who?

A sharp knock on the door awoke him from his thoughts.

"Sir," It was Rikard. "We've found them."

**Replies to Reviews**

**Dreaan, Magot321, Lonely Shadow: **Many thanks for taking the time to comment!

**Fig-aruna: **Yeah, I suppose, but I myself find it slightly bothersome when a good fic that I happen to be reading remains un-updated for months on end, but then again, you're right, it's better to have a well-thought out final product rather than a completely rushed fic that's written simply for the reviews.. And thanks, again. :)

**Asia Cwiakala: **Ah well, I tried to put a little humor in there, for the sake of it really.. :)

**Nobody's Princess: **Thanks, yeah, well, I tried to make it seem as if he's reduced to a fumbling klutz around Selene, whereas in any other situation he'd probably be the brooding, angsty Michael we all know from the hospital scenes.

It's not the writing when I'm busy, or the people asking me to update that bothers me, but more the fact that the stupid things I'm busy with don't allow me to do the things that I enjoy doing. School's a pain in the ass, they give us completely stupid things to write about that crush all forms of creativity and leave me wallowing with semi-permanent writer's block. ('How Rudolph saved Christmas' is an excellent example of a topic for English class that completely blows me away with its sheer stupidity and tastelessness.)

I'll definitely be finishing it, it's just a matter of time, I suppose you could say. This chapter really had me scratching my head once in a while, and it still doesn't flow the way I want it to..

And thanks for commenting, all reviews are much appreciated!

**Ithilwenn:** Thanks! Well, if you think about it, in the movie, neither of the leads spoke all that much, to each other or to anyone else. Everything was happening too fast for any form of idle conversation, and so I'm trying to mimic that a bit..

:) Thanks again, yeah, I myself love subtlety, and those fics where Selene immediately assumes a housewife-like attitude just doesn't do justice to the film. It's just plain unnatural for a character like Selene, one who'd been keeping their emotions locked away for over a century, to all-of-a-sudden act like she'd been loving all along..

:D Yes, I agree, I'll have to think of something on those lines. He may have been a necessary part of the Underworld plot, but god, that in no way means that we can't hate him with a passion. :)

Oh no, I really don't mind long reviews at all, and yeah, they tend to be a little more helpful than the usual, one-line, 'Update soon!' reviews you get most of the time. I don't really mind those at all, but bigger reviews are really appreciated.

Thanks for the suggestion, yeah, that would work nicely into the plotline I had planned… Prove to Michael that she can be just as vulnerable as him. Poor guy's really had the girlfriend's role in both the film (excluding, of course, his little brawl with Viktor) and this fic, so it would be good to give him and his medical skills a chance. :)

And thanks again, although I really do apologize for the massive delay, my teachers are giving me hell and it's really hard to find time to breathe in the midst of writer's block.


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